


payday 2 short stories

by emilywolf (orphan_account)



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Collection of stories, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:48:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2063499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emilywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a bunch of my stories from tumblr as i write them! all the chapters are individual stories and, aside from being set in the same universe, have no connection. enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. redecorating

“What the hell.”

As the lights flickered on, the bright yellow ducky print wallpaper intensified. The four men standing at the door of the room were speechless. Well, almost.

“What the bloody hell.” Hoxton took two steps into the room, swiveling on his heel to face the rest of the crew. “Who put up this fuckin’ wallpaper?” Silence. From a phone located on a table in the blindingly yellow room, a loud laughter was heard crackling.

“The looks on your faces! I wish I had recorded that, that’s just priceless!” Chains gave the camera in the room a dirty look before stomping towards the phone. “Bain, if this is your idea of ‘improving’ the safe house I swear-“ Chains’ voice was drowned out by Bain’s laughter. “You- you guys like the newest Babies R Us wallpaper? It’s top of the line!”

Dallas sighed. “Is this your way of getting back at us for tagging the wrong truck?” Bain stopped laughing for only a moment to catch his breath.

“You- you guys weren’t even suspicious! ‘Yeah, leave for several hours while I fix up the safehouse’! Oh man, the look on your faces. I needed that.” He sighed contentedly, oblivious to the glares that he was receiving. Hoxton let out a low string of choice curse words. “Bain, you are lucky you’re in some room far far away or I’d bash yer head in.”

In between Dallas’s groans and sighs, Hoxton’s cursing, and Chains’ complaining, everyone had some manner of complaint. Almost everyone. Wolf was quiet.

“Well… I rather like it.”


	2. swedish fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr user hoxxymomma requested a fic where wolf makes a swedish dish and its ruined. here it is.

The duty roster was the only set of rules the crew followed.

“Who’s cooking tonight?” Hoxton asked from his perch on the couch. He was lazily picking at his nails with a knife, much to the disapproval of his older brother. Dallas held out his hand for the knife. “Stop that, and I’ll tell you.” Hoxton rolled his eyes. “What, afraid your lil bro’s gonna- ah, fuck!” He cursed as the knife slipped and cut his finger. Dallas gave him a pointed look as he confiscated the knife. “Wolf’s on dinner duty.”

The man in question perked up. This was the first time he was cooking since… Well, since he left his home, really. Chains often took over cooking, but tonight he was out and wouldn’t be back for a while. “Can I make a Swedish dish?” He asked hopefully. Dallas shrugged. “So long as it’s better than the MREs that Bain filled this place with.” Wolf let out a noise of delight. What better way to introduce the rest of the crew to his culture than delicious food?

Wolf jumped up and scurried to his pile of boxes in the corner. When he left Sweden, he had brought a decent amount of delicacies that were near impossible to find in the States. Shifting aside the box of old Hoxton’s belongings (he was coming back, regardless of how hard Bain said it would be, and he needed his things), carefully moving the container filled with photos of his family aside, and pulling out a box labeled Smörgåsbord. Wolf opened the box and grinned. The guys would love this.

—-

“And I present… Sweden!” Wolf said as he walked into the living room, carefully balancing 4 dishes. Hoxton sat up. “Aw, great! I love Asian takeout but I’m sure this will be great!“ He said as a plate was put on his lap. As he took a closer look, his smile died. “…What is this?”

Wolf tilted his head. “It’s… pickled herring? Fish. There’s potatoes and egg there, too.” Hoxton and Dallas both recoiled at the strong, briny smell emanating from the plate. Hoxton touched the herring, cringing at the sensation of the cold, raw fish. There was a moment of silence where the Americans regretted letting Wolf cook. Wolf looked confused.

“What, do you not like it?” He asked, his voice sounding offended. Hoxton opened his mouth to confirm but Dallas kicked him in the shin under the table. “No, it’s just strange. I’m sure Hoxton and I will eat all of it, won’t we?” Dallas said, smiling at Wolf. He stabbed at the sliced fish, putting it in his mouth and chasing it down with a gulp of beer. Hoxton gagged as the intense taste hit his tongue, but managed to swallow and give Wolf a shaky smile.

Chains shrugged, and ate with vigor. “Better than the MREs for sure.”


End file.
